MOVING ON.....2024

A Note From The Author: Jacqueline E. Hughes

I am so happy to welcome in the new year, 2024!!! My Blog is changing-up a bit....mainly because I am evolving. Travel will always take precedence in my life and, my journeys will be shared with you. This 2024 version will offer a variety of new stories and personal ideas, as well. This is all about having fun and enjoying this Beautiful Journey called......Life!!!

Showing posts with label Florida Living. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Florida Living. Show all posts

Thursday, March 22, 2018

MOVING 'TWENTY YEARS' UP NORTH




A series of essays.....




HOMEOWNERS IN ORLANDO


.....as seen through my eyes!



By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


Prior to moving down to Orlando, my husband had to put up with a mad person. 

“People don’t travel down to Florida to live,” is how I would counter his attempts at reasonability. “People travel down there to vacation, right?” We’d, actually, been doing just that for almost twenty-five years with our two, young daughters while we owned a week’s timeshare condominium on Sanibel Island, Florida.

After much kicking and screaming, and abject resistance on my part, and old fashioned wooing on his, I conceded after nearly a year. Our youngest, was just entering her freshman year at Michigan State University and I was bound and determined not to abandon her at this critical time in her life. Also, I was enjoying my job and was hard-pressed to leave it, our daughter, or the state that I had called home for so many years.

The ‘magical’ part (pun intended) was that our oldest daughter had secured a job with Walt Disney World after graduating from MSU and was just beginning a ten-year-long career with the company. Having her near helped me through the depression I’d been feeling about having to relocate.

And so, this journey to the City Beautiful (Orlando’s nickname), Theme Park Alley, and more people from all over the world than you could possibly imagine in one small space, began. It was nineteen hundred and ninety-seven when my husband drove down to begin his new job as Project Manager with Picerne Development. Our oldest daughter followed him down after accepting an Internship with Walt Disney World. I was, happily, up North trying to figure out how it happened to be that I was, suddenly, living all alone with family scattered here and there. And, then....it was time to move and join Dan in Orlando!

Moving itself was a no-brainer. The company moved everything we’d been collecting as a family for over thirty years and we had it divided between our new apartment and an air conditioned storage unit until we had a plan formulated as to where and when we moved into our own home. “Got to learn the lay of the land first,” I would say. “I have no clue which area of this sprawling city I want to live in! And, not knowing a single person down here to help fill us in, this is going to take some time.” Dan did agree with this.

Even as depressed as I was about having to change my life so completely, as well as leaving our youngest in college up in East Lansing, I knew that, eventually, I needed to find a job. The simple act of employment really turned things around. My concentration was not centered around ‘poor me’ anymore; it was about working once again, being with other people, and saving money for our new home. For the first time in many months I felt totally alive!

Two years in and with steady weekly deposits into our savings account, we were ready to take the piano out of storage and become homeowners in Orlando!

As our oldest daughter spread her wings and climbed the corporate ladder, we had two years to figure out where we were going to plant our Floridian roots and chose to build our ‘forever’ home on the East side of the city with convenient highway access to anything and everything of importance to us. 

Every night for four months, we would meet at our construction site to see the progress on our new home: “Perfect timing. Thought you were going to be late,” I chided. “You’re the one who had to drive all the way from Celebration to get here. That’s almost forty-five minutes across town on the 417! Let’s go see how much they accomplished in there today,” he said. How excited we were, and to think that building on our dreams within those four, cement block walls (eventually, to be covered in stucco) with the plumbing pipes sticking out of the cement slab on the ground....I felt I was going to be living on the other side of the moon! Pipes were supposed to be stuck somewhere between the wall studs or in the ceiling! And, not being able to have a basement was culture shock for me. 

Our oldest daughter met her future husband here. They were married on the west side of Orlando and gave us two of the most beautiful and brilliant grandchildren here. Having decided to follow an alternate career, however, they moved to Michigan and now thrive not far from where her sister resides. Our youngest, found the ‘love of her life’ in Michigan, married him and produced three adorable and accomplished children......including twins! And, then there were ‘five’ of the most precious reasons to ever reconsider making grand changes in our lives.

Dan retires this year. The pulse of life ebbs and flows with the tides that pull at the vast seas surrounding this semi-tropical peninsula we call home. Changes are coming along the horizon and we either accept them gracefully or remain basking in the Floridian sunshine forever, our family far away in Michigan.

A typical conversation would have gone something like this:

“Did you know this is the longest we’ve been in one home together throughout our married life? We’ve been down here for over twenty years, worked and played hard, and created a ton of memories,” Dan said, continuing the running theme of our Saturday morning coffee-fest while lounging in the room we, lovingly, call our library. 

“I do,” I replied. “But, my question is, haven’t we done all this the opposite way around? Don’t most people retire and then move down here to relax and live? I feel like we’ve been on a perpetual vacation all of this time. I kind of like it, Dan. I don’t know if I can take the Michigan weather anymore.”

“We’ve been very fortunate. But, I think life itself is calling us back up there with all of the kids. Hey, I remember having to convince you that moving down here was a good thing to do. You hated me for pulling you away from up there!”

“My heart was there, Dan. Our ‘baby’ was still there and I felt numb and disoriented when I knew it was time to commit to the disruption of our family by leaving her and making a life down here. 

Looking me square in the eyes, he asked, “Can you make that same commitment to our grandchildren now? Will you pull the ties that bind us here gently apart and help me create a new life surrounded by the people we love?”

“I can do that.” I paused, thinking for a moment. “Do you remember that mad, depressed woman you had to convince that Orlando could be a great place to call home? For nearly a year I would fly down to visit and you’d take me to plays, soft jazz concerts at Leu Gardens Park, with long, sunny drives down the Florida A1A where we’d make stops to walk the beach hand-in-hand and end up hauling tons of sand back into the car before making the trip back to your apartment? I want to feel that warmth again; always keep it alive in my heart.”

“I remember you kicking and screaming all the way down here! You weren’t very happy for quite some time, as I remember.”

“You dropped me in the middle of a fire pit and then flew off to West Virginia and Mississippi for the week for work! Orlando was in a dry spell and fires were flaring up all over the outskirts of the city,” I said, clutching a pillow to my chest as I recalled those frightening, early days.

“I know. You told me it was like I’d left you in the bowels of hell when I flew off to work every Monday.”

“If it hadn’t been for Ali being so close, I would have gone completely crazy! Our daughter helped me keep some semblance of sanity. Then we built this beautiful house together and I, finally, got the chance to decorate a home just the way I wanted to after all these years.”

Smiling at me, “It’s difficult to change. It’s hard to just let go of so many years of memories, isn’t it?”

“Yes. And because of that, you now have another crazy, mad woman on your hands! Only, this time, I’m kicking and screaming in the opposite direction...because, and don’t tell me otherwise, we both feel that Orlando is now our home in so many ways.”

“I agree, wholeheartedly, but after retiring, there isn’t a good enough reason for us not to be up North with all of the kids, my brothers and their families, and all of our good friends. Our lives will be full. Our lives will be complete and we’ll have, definitely, come full circle.”

“You’re right,” I said. “Of course, you are. What I need to do is get over the huge hurdle of retirement, selling this home, and dealing with the intricacies of packing up twenty years of memories. Twenty years of happiness.“

“Yes? And......?” he inquired with a quizzical looking grin on his handsome face.

“If I believe enough in ‘us’ and understand that being a family once again is our highest priority....then, and only then, will it be easy for me to fill up boxes and bins with all of our amazing Florida memories and begin moving ‘twenty years’ of our lives up North.”

“At the end of all our hard work will be the ultimate prize,” he explained. “Those five shining faces accompanied by a million kisses and hugs will surely warm us both up every day of the year!”

“I know. Their love for us and our love for them will always be far greater and much more meaningful than having the Floridian sun shining down like every day is a golden summer’s day. Hey, I love you, too, Papa! Let's get some boxes and I'll start packing some books...."


Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved  







Thursday, March 9, 2017

A GENTLE PROTEST





A series of essays.....



HOLDING OUR FUTURE
IN MY ARMS


.....as seen through my eyes!



By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Sitting alone in my work space, otherwise known as snuggling in a corner of the living room couch, i-Pad on lap, I luxuriate in the comforting household sounds that surround me.

Sometimes we hear the sounds that make-up our daily life. More often than we'd like to admit, we do not. Call it being   preoccupied, in deep concentration, or simply oblivious to what transpires around us....life is happening in many forms with each breath we take.

On this day, especially, I am taking the time to examine my life, my personal surroundings, and make note of each slight degree of difference that makes up my days of writing. After all, life is a rich artistic performance, full of nuance.

Today is particularly important because it is International Women's Day.....but, with a twist! "A Day Without a Woman" march and protest coincides with the celebration of women in general as it rallies for equal rights for women all over the world. The action is aimed at showing the economic importance and impact of women on society. And, yes....I'm ashamed that in the year 2017, women must continue the fight to be seen and treated as 'equals' alongside of men!

So, I am doing my part.

Today we are between guests staying here with us at our home in Florida. Part of living in this amazingly comfortable climate in Florida is celebrating the warm, non-humid days and cool, 'windows opened' nights that give us so much sleeping pleasure. Moving here from Michigan nearly twenty years ago, I know how blessed I am each time I think about all of the brutal winters spent up north.

Always having wanted to run my own Bed & Breakfast out of our Victorian home in Eaton Rapids, Michigan, I find the next best thing is to have as many relatives and friends stay down here with us whenever and as often as they can. This winter has been the fulfillment of this dream and, somehow, sharing the comforts of a home you've stockpiled with so much hard work and care with those you love, makes me happy. I, deliciously, compare it to enjoying the rich cream that floats up to the top of the glass milk bottle.

I began paying attention to the 'sounds of my day' while getting out of bed this morning and making a note of each one, beginning with the gentle drip, drip of freshly brewing coffee filling the carafe. I color most of my activities for the day in a 'gentle protest' that coincides with each and every woman who is actively marching her way into history along the streets of New York City, Washington D.C., Chicago, and Los Angeles and so many more places near and far. And, I am praying that 'she' is treated kindly by 'her' employer and/or manager if 'she' has had to call in sick or has bravely announced that 'she' will be marching instead of working at her job today.

Sitting here in my favorite work spot and sipping hot coffee from my preferred ceramic mug, I take pleasure in hearing the slightly grinding rumble of the dryer on the other side of the kitchen as it tumbles dry the pristine white sheets I will soon be making-up the guest bed with. Listening to the gentle tapping of my fingers on the keyboard as I type away is as comforting and natural as caressing my pet's head while snuggling on the couch watching television.

You might be thinking to yourself, "What is she talking about? She's working right now cleaning the house after the departure of yesterday's guests and before tomorrow's guests arrive and, she's been working on her writing since waking-up at six-thirty in the morning! She hasn't stopped working as a form of protest today!" And, from the looks of it, you would be right.

Sitting here alone today without the pleasant ring of friendly laughter emanating from the stories that resurfaced by virtue of free-flowing memories of long ago pleasures and good times shared....I have vowed to be more aware of this down time between guests. I am listening to the melodic clicking sounds of two 'battery fed' clocks that hang on the walls surrounding me and wonder if any two clocks actually tick in unison with one another. Surprisingly, right as this thought enters my head, the mantle clock in my husband's office chimes the half-hour.

The early afternoon scheduled flights of various carriers, are dropping their landing gear just north of our home as their pilots prepare to guide them gently down onto the tarmac at Orlando International Airport. They continue to float above me in intervals of two to three minutes and I listen to the variances in their engine sounds and wonder how many different passengers in these particular planes have observed our rooftop before landing for business or pleasure on the ground.

My uncle Louie was a pilot in WWII and used to enjoy sitting out on our lanai listening for the planes to float by while petting our dog, Brûlée, as they snuggled together on a comfy lounge chair.  By the time he could see them, he had determined what make and size of engine each plane had just by being so attuned to the particular sounds made by each one. I miss this visual these past five years as I miss my uncle and his pleasant companionship.

Wednesday is yard day for us and I can feel the presence of the crew in our front yard before the edgers, mowers, and blowers even begin their gasoline infused parade up the driveway. Their rhythmic roars have drowned-out the fact that my dryer has stopped. I am too comfortable to get up right now! Besides, as I recall, I am still gently protesting throughout this fine day. 

Have I ever taken notice of the humanlike sounds coming from the French door refrigerator before? Its low rumble sounds like the 'hunger pangs' of people with a strong desire for food. And, tying the two together would make perfect sense when I stop to think about it. This reminds me that I should make a decision as to what to have for dinner later. Or, should I not care about dinner today of all days?

I am so bad-ass, aren't I?

Right as I am thinking about my 'Nasty Woman' behavior, a squad, herd, group, horde of squirrels charge across the roof like there is no tomorrow, their tiny rodent paws with their elongated nails scratching the shingles the entire width of the house as they charge their way to the outstretched limbs of the live oak tree in the back yard. I know that dinner for them tonight will be the sweet buds of young leaves waiting to make their debut into the unknown world. Many of them will become squirrel food tonight.

It's already five o'clock because the mechanical whirl of our garage door opening-up reaches my ears. How long have I been sitting here writing this afternoon? How long have I taken the time to just listen to the world around me? 

The husband enters the back door as the ping, ping, ping of the alarm system announces his presence before I can even see him walk into the kitchen. I will greet him now. He will ask me about my 'gentle protest' today because he is a gentle soul who has voluntarily become fined-tuned to women in general; me in particular. A huge smile spreads across my face.

Happiness has its own sounds, too. Spreading smiles sound so sweet in the dimming light of this familiar room. I know he will gladly help me make-up the guest bed tonight after I extract the sheets from the gaping mouth of the dryer. Tomorrow evening we will welcome our guests with open arms and a home cooked meal. And wine, plenty of good wine and cheers. 

I'm pleased to have aligned myself with every other woman in the world today. My 'gentle protest' will be felt in waves of camaraderie and solidarity with each one of them. Our strength in numbers and strong will is something to be reckoned with because the Power of Women is the new chapter being written, not with the idea of overpowering men in general, or the men in our own, personal lives.... Rather, by standing tall and strong right alongside of them in unity and equality.


Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved